


I Will Kill God (If I Don't Die First)

by sadyeehaw007



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pyromania, Self-Harm, its the dreamsmp but theyre all mostly friends, only the war, some people on the server arent there because i dont know them that well, the election didnt happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadyeehaw007/pseuds/sadyeehaw007
Summary: Everyone in the DreamSMP are running from something, be it bad memories, bad people, or bad choices. But they can't run forever.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 148





	1. The Broken King

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first time sharing anything I've written, so I hope you guys like it. :)
> 
> I'm working on a DreamSMP festival animatic right now, so I might not be able to update as much as I would like. But, yeah. :)

God, it was cold.

It was so, so cold. He wasn't used to this. There was water, too. It was coming from the ceiling, he assumed, but he couldn't see the top of it. He must be pretty low, then.

The water soaked through his clothes quickly, and his cape became so heavy that it was hard to carry. Not to mention the way everything was spinning, and he felt sick.

And it was so cold.

He kept walking, his eyes blinded by the water, shivering violently. He was so tired, he just wanted to lay down...

He didn't realize he was falling until he was on the ground. He pulled himself close to a wall, holding his knees to his chest. His hands and face were numb, and his teeth chattered so hard he thought his jaw would fall off. He really hated the cold.

He lay his head down on his knees and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was sleep. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he wasn't safe here. They would find him if he stayed here. But where would he go? He barely had the strength to stand, much less... what? No matter where he went, he would never be safe. They would just find him again, and... and...

And he was asleep.

"Hey! Hey, you gotta wake up. You'll get sick sleeping in the rain." He slowly opened his eyes. There was a man standing in front of him, wearing a green cloak and hat. He was short, he thought. A small man. And he had wings, too, large dark wings that were folded tightly against his back. 

The man continued talking to him, but he didn't understand a word of it. It was the same language many of his captors had used, but this man spoke it differently. Quieter, maybe. Softer.

"C'mon," the man said. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

He just looked at him blankly.

"Do you... understand me?"

Blink. His vision was getting fuzzy, and it was hard to keep his eyes open. He was so tired. He knew he should be scared of this man, that the man would probably hurt him, but he couldn't think straight. All he could feel was cold, and tired. His eyes shut, and his head dropped back down.

"Hey, hey, alright, okay. I'm just gonna, uh..." The man grabbed his arms, pulling him up. He didn't even try to fight as the man carried him away. His eyes were so heavy, and he wasn't strong enough to do anything about it...

And then he was somewhere else. He was propped up in a chair, with a wool blanket draped over him. He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his eyes.

The man came into the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

"You're awake! Good, I was getting worried there."

He knew that word. Awake. He nodded slowly, and the man perked up. "Oh! You do understand me? Thank god."

The man narrowed his eyes a bit at his blank stare in response, but looked away anyways. "We should get you some other clothes. It's probably not good to keep wearing the wet ones."

The man looked to him for some sort of confirmation, he assumed, but he had no idea what he was asking. 

"I think there's still some of Wil's that'll fit you. I'll, uh, be right back." The man left, closing the door again.

He tried to push off the blanket and stand, but he could barely move his arms. That probably wasn't good. After a few more attempts, he gave up. He would just have to hope the man meant well.

He flinched as the door opened again. The man stepped through quickly, carrying a navy blue sweater and brown sweatpants. 

"Alright, can y-" The man froze mid-sentence, staring at him. "Are you- are you hurt? There's blood on your shirt."

He knew those words too. He shook his head. That blood wasn't his.

"A-alright, uh. Can you put these on yourself, or do you need help?"

He just stared.

"Uh..." The man held the neatly folded clothes out to him. He tried to move, to take them, but he was still so weak and useless. He shook his head again.

"Okay, I'll help." He pulled the blanket off of him and began unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off when he had undone all of the buttons. The man inhaled sharply.

"Oh my god, what- who-?"

Even though he didn't know what he was saying, he understood the sentiment behind the words. He just shrugged slightly. The scars were not something he wanted to talk about, and it's not like he could have, even if he wanted to.

The man didn't say anything else as he finished helping with the clothes. He just lead him to a small room across the hall.

There was a small bookshelf in the corner, next to a desk covered in loose papers. And in the middle of the far wall, there was what appeared to be a bed, like from the stories. He knew they existed in the overworld, but he never actually thought he would see one.

The man lead him to the bed and helped him onto it. "Oh, I, uh, never introduced myself. My name is Phil, or Philza, if you prefer." He turned to leave, clearly not thinking he understood.

"T..thank y-you... Phil." He had never spoken the human language before, and it felt foreign in his mouth. But Phil lit up, smiling brightly at him.

"You're welcome. You should get some rest now. You look like you could use some."

Now that was a word he knew, and he was more than happy to comply. He was out cold before Phil had even closed the door.


	2. The Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza has doubts about the strange boy he brought in off the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hEy guys its me!!!!!! its been so long and i am so sorry ive been so busy with school and drawing, and i have had the Worst writers block. this chapter isnt much (which is why it was so hard to write) But i should be able to be faster now.
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT!!!!
> 
> i updated the tags for more trigger warning because i finally figured out the lore for this fic.
> 
> thank you guys so much for reading :)

Phil wasn't sure what to think of the tall boy with the golden crown and brutal scars.

He had just been on his way home from the center of town when he saw him, curled up against the wall and shivering in the cold. He had long braided pink hair, with a golden crown on his head. There was a large red cape in his hands, heavy with rain. The boy looked positively miserable, and Phil felt incredibly sorry for him.

So, against his better judgement, he woke the boy up.

He stared at Phil blankly. His eyes were red, and they were so dull and empty. Phil wanted so badly to help him, but he remembered what Wil had always told him.

"You can't keep trying to save people you find on the side of the road," his son said, annoyed. "One of these days, you're gonna get yourself robbed or killed, and what are Tommy and I gonna do then, huh? We barely have enough money to support the three of us, much less whoever you bring in off the street. And what if you died? We don't have anywhere to go."

Phil pursed his lips, and Wilbur sighed. "I know you just want to help people, but that'll get you hurt eventually, especially in this city," he said, his voice much softer than before. "Just- be careful. Please."

But Phil saw himself in the boy's dead eyes. He wasn't just going to let him stay here, shivering and alone in the dangerous city.

So he carried the half-unconscious boy back to his house and set him on a chair. The boy's lips were blue, and he was still shaking. Phil covered him with a blanket while he tried to figure out what to do. The boy might be sick or injured, and he was fairly certain that he had been in the cold rain for a while. Regardless, he was so weak that Phil was certain he would be staying for a while, so he went to his eldest son's room to prepare it.

He stepped into the room, looking around with a fond smile. The desk against the wall, always cluttered with papers; the small bookcase that held all of the books his son had amassed over the years; and the yellow bed, neatly made, with the stuffed bear sitting on the pillow. He picked up the bear and held it for a moment. 

It was a gift from Wil's mother shortly before her passing. His son loved the bear as a child, carrying it everywhere he went. He was surprised Wilbur had left it, considering how much he had cared for it in the past. He was probably too old for it now.

Phil set the bear back down and looked under the bed for the chest that held Wilbur's clothes. His eyes went to the small bedroll, still open and spread under the bed.

His younger son was a very... imaginative child. Sure, that served him well during the day, but at night, he would create horrible creatures in his mind, creatures that were surely out to get him. And so, Tommy ended up sleeping under Wilbur's bed more often than he did in his own.

He smiled at the memory and dragged out the chest, removing a set of clothes. They looked to be about the right size, so he walked back down the hall and into the room.

But the poor boy couldn't even lift his arms. So Phil helped him change out of his wet clothes, and that's when he saw the scars.

His chest and arms were both covered in scars in various stages of healing. But the most noticeable ones were the small ones covering his chest. They were small, straight lines, with the ones on his collarbone almost completely faded. The scars looked so unnatural, and it took Phil a moment to realize what they actually were.

Tally marks.

There were hundreds of them, all in small, neat bunches of five. Phil froze for a moment. What was he supposed to say? The boy wasn't even looking at him. He was just staring numbly at the wall. Who was this kid?

This question still haunted him, even as Phil helped the boy into his son's bed. But any doubts he had left as the boy thanked him. 

He smiled slightly to himself as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked back to his room. He had done the right thing, he must have.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, there's that. ill update this hopefully this week and then it should be more regular updates.
> 
> please comment! i love reading them. <3


	3. A Broken Promise

_ "Elaine." _

_ She turned to look at him, eyebrows already raised. Elaine was running out of patience with her brother's old friend.  _

_ "I, uh, got some news about your brother." _

_ Her heart dropped. The chances of it being good news were low, god, she knew they were, that's all Squid ever told her, but... he was her brother! He was invincible! _

_ "...He's gone." _

_ Her eyes widened. _

_ No. _

_ No,  no, he can't be, he can't. _

_ He promised. He promised he'd come back for her. _

_ And they killed him. _

_ They killed her brother. _

_ Her fists clenched as her face flushed red with anger. _

_ "You let him die." She spat out the words she'd been thinking about for years. _

_ Squid's eyes narrowed. "What?" _

_ Elaine stood up, raising her chin. She let out a choked laugh. _

_ "You could've saved him. Y-you could've done something! And now he's dead because of you." All the times he told her he was as good as dead, when he told her to stop thinking about him, rushed through her head. _

_ "Elaine. You know there was nothing I could've done. He gave his life for you. That was his choice." _

_ She froze. He was right. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't be... gone.  _

_ "He was dead the day he was taken, you know he was. I know you loved him, Elaine. But there's nothing we can do about it now." _

_ Her laugh became a barely hidden sob. "I thought you cared about him. But you don't. Even now, you won't do anything about it." She turned away. "You're going to let them get away with killing him." _

_ Squid frowned. "And what do you say I do? They have all the power here. Revenge won't help anyone, Elaine." _

_ "I don't care. I d-don't care! I'm going to make them pay for what they did to him, whether you'll help me or not." _

_ "You're a child! Don't you get it? If your brother couldn't beat them, what makes you think you can?" _

_ She whirled, glaring at him, holding her shaking fists behind her back. "So you won't, then. Help me." _

_ Squid let out a short, bitter laugh. "No. I won't." _

_ "Fine. I'll do it by myself." _

_ "Don't be stupid. He's been gone for years, and he will stay gone no matter what you do." _

_ "I don't care." _

_ "Elaine-" He reached out for her, but she stepped back. She ran upstairs, slamming the door behind her. _

_ This was her fault. It was all her fault, and she was going to make it right. _

_ She picked up her pen and dug it into the paper with a shaking hand, scribbling out her final letter. Elaine quickly wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall as she wrote. _

_ Tec, _

_ I won't let them get away with this. No matter what Squid says. I will make them feel every last bit of what they did to you. _

_ I'm sorry. _

_ -Elaine _

_ She placed the book on her bed. It was filled with all of the letters she wrote to her brother over the years he was gone. Squid could have it, she supposed. She wouldn't be needing it anymore. Writing letters to a dead man was a waste of time. _

_ Elaine quickly packed her bag. She threw in a few pairs of clothes, all of the gold she had, and the gleaming dagger her brother had gifted her many years ago. She walked to the window, taking one last look over her shoulder at the small room that had been home to her for the past five years. She wouldn't miss it. _

_ For a moment, she hesitated, guilt settling deep in her stomach. Squid had been kind enough to her, letting her live with him after Tec was taken. But she couldn't just stay here, doing nothing to avenge her brother. _

_ So she turned back to the window, sliding the lock open and jumping down. She put her hood over her head and ran off into the Nether, all alone. _

_ She was going to make them pay. _

_ \------------------------------------------- _

_ "Elaine? Come on, I'm sorry. Come talk to me, please..." _

_ Squid knocked on the door to her bedroom. "Elaine?" _

_ There was no response. _

_ He turned the knob, pushing the door open. "Elaine? I-" _

_ The room was empty, the window hanging open. _

_ No no no no no no- _

_ He ran to the window, looking around. Nothing. _

_ He took a short, ragged breath, turning back. His eyes caught on the open book on the bed. He stared at the open page, a sob escaping him. _

_ Squid sat down on the bed, tears finally falling from his eyes. He put his head in his hands. _

_ His best friend was dead. _

_ Elaine was gone. _

_ And he had broken his promise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya hate to see it
> 
> short chapter again, sorry about that. exams have been destroying me a lil bit. next chapter might be out tomorrow if i can suck it up and actually write. i have so much lore for this fic its not even funny, my mind just goes haha dont write :)
> 
> twitter plug? twitter plug. follow me @sadyeehaw012 on twitter :))
> 
> see yall tomorrow, hopefully


	4. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno enjoys his time with Phil, and he makes a realization.

_ Techno screamed, the ropes on his wrists biting into his skin. Those things were everywhere, screeching in his ears, and he had to move, had to get away, but he couldn't. All he could do was scream and thrash against the ropes holding him down.  _

_ The things were scratching at him, their claws slicing through his flesh. Their eyes burned into him like matches. And he still couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe- _

_ His vision was getting blurry, and it felt like his mind was moving through cotton. Everything blended together, the shadowy figures becoming one with his surroundings, until eventually, everything faded to black. _

_ When his vision cleared again, the things were gone, and Minx's face stared down at him. She was biting her lip, and her face was etched with worry. _

_ He was so tired and his head ached. His whole body burned. It felt like he had just drank lava. His throat and lips were so dry that he could barely swallow. _

_ Minx picked up a small bottle from his bedside table and held it to his lips. "Drink. It'll help." _

_ Techno tensed at the sight of the bottle, his stomach turning at the thought of drinking another potion. "No," he said weakly. "Please, no more, I c-can't..." _

_ "Come on. It's just water, alright? I'm not gonna give you another potion, but you have to drink this." _

_"No," he muttered, his vision getting blurry again. "No, no, please..." He couldn't see her anymore. The horrible creatures were back, screaming at him_. 

-

Techno's eyes shot open as he gasped for breath. It was just a dream, but it felt so real. They always did, he supposed. He breathed deeply and shakily, looking around the room in an attempt to ground himself.

The room was so dark. It was strangely calming. When was the last time he had been in a completely dark room? The rooms in the arena had always been brightly lit, even at night. The lights had always given him headaches, especially when he was younger. But the dark felt like home. A home he could barely remember now.

It was warm here, too. He was covered in a thick, soft blanket, and the clothes he was wearing were much warmer than his old ones. It was comfortably warm, not suffocatingly hot like his home had been. And the bed. The bed was soft, softer than anything he'd ever felt. It was so much better than the old cots.

In spite of the nightmare, he felt... safe? He hadn't felt safe in so many years. It was such a foreign feeling. But it was nice. A little unsettling maybe, but... nice.

_ He could've stayed in that bed forever, if it hadn't been for his stomach. Techno was absolutely  starving. _

_ So he pushed the blanket off and sat up. At least he had regained enough strength to move. That was good. He cautiously got out of the bed, stumbling a little before he found his balance. His legs were shaky and weak, but he was standing. _

_ Techno took a few careful steps. His body was sore, but he could move it without falling. He walked to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob. Techno hesitated for a moment. _

_ The odds of him being told to leave, now that Phil knew he was alright, were very high. And then what would he do? He didn't have anywhere to go, he didn't have any money, he didn't even speak the same language. Not to mention the fact that there were some very dangerous and powerful people looking for him now. _

_ He would just have to deal with it, he supposed. Hope that Phil would feel sorry for him and let him stick around for a few more days. But, if he stayed, he would be putting Phil, who seemed like a nice man, in danger. There was really no way to win here. _

_ But he was used to that. _

_ So he turned the doorknob and walked out. _

_ He could hear humming and the occasional clang of pots from down the hall. Techno walked towards the sound, his legs thankfully holding him up. _

_ He padded down the hall silently, passing three closed doors to his left. At the end of the hall, Phil had his back turned at the stove, cooking something. Techno took another step forward, the floor creaking below his feet. _

_ Phil turned to meet him, smiling. "Good morning. Or, uh, afternoon." _

_ Techno glanced up, meeting his eyes for a moment, before quickly looking away. He hated eye contact. It always felt like everyone could see straight through him. _

_ "You must be hungry, yeah? Come sit down, you can have some stew," He said, gesturing at a chair at the nearby table. _

_ Techno walked over to the chair, dragging it out and flinching at the loud screech it made against the floor. He sat down stiffly, his fists clenched in his lap. _

_ Phil hummed softly to himself as he put some stew into a bowl, setting it down in front of Techno and taking a seat across from him. _

_ Techno hesitated for a moment, looking back up at Phil. The food smelled so good, and he was so hungry, but he didn't want to do the wrong thing. Phil nodded encouragingly at him. _

_ Slowly, he put a spoonful in his mouth. As soon as the hot broth hit his tongue, his eyes widened. It tasted  incredible.  Undeniably better than anything he'd ever eaten before. _

_ Phil chuckled. "It's that good? Really? No one's ever liked my cooking  that  much before." _

_ The corners of Techno's mouth twitched up slightly. He wasn't sure what he said, but the intention of the words was clear. _

_ Phil continued to chatter aimlessly as Techno finished his meal. He wasn't sure what the purpose was. Surely Phil knew that he didn't understand a word of it. _

_ Regardless, the sound was appreciated. It was quite pleasant to just listen to someone speak, knowing that there was no expectation of comprehension or a response. It felt very calming, and even when Techno had scraped the bowl clean, he continued to sit there, contently listening to Phil talk. _

_ What was it about this place that was so... disarming? It felt so different, so wildly different from anything he'd ever known. And yet, instead of being afraid, instead of shutting down completely... he felt safe? Comfortable? _

_ There had to be a catch. There just had to be. _

_ Techno spent days trying to find the catch. Days spent sitting in the big, fluffy chair by the fire while Phil read a book. Days spent helping Phil on the small carrot farm he kept in the backyard. Days spent laying in bed, staring at the whale drawing on the wall. _

_ Days spent unexplainably happy. _

_ Sure, there were times when he wasn't. Times when he would wake up from a bad nightmare and make it to the toilet just in time to throw up. Times when bad memories would flood his mind until the man in front of him was someone else entirely. Times when he was convinced that this was all just a dream and that he would be snapped back into reality any second. _

_ But Phil was always there, showing him how to breathe because it felt like he had forgotten, making him hot chocolate during the nights when going back to sleep felt like an impossible task, reading aloud to him so he could focus on anything else even when he didn't know the words. _

_ And slowly, Techno started to believe that maybe this was real. Maybe there was no catch. Maybe this was what the world outside of the rings was like. _

_ Maybe he could stay here forever. _

_ Phil showed no intentions of kicking him out. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the company. So Techno let himself believe, if only a little bit, that he could be happy here. That he would never have to go back to that hellhole again. _

_ If he was going to stay, he supposed, he better start trying to learn how to communicate. _

_ - _

_ "Alright, let's try it. What's your name?" _

_ "I'm... Tech-no-blade." _

_ "Yes. Good. And what's my name?" _

_ "Phil...za?" _

_ Phil grinned. "There you go. Good job, mate." _

_ In spite of his best efforts, Techno found himself smiling. He wasn't used to this, wasn't used to being told that he was doing a  good job.  A part of him liked it, the part of him that craved approval, the part of him that desperately wanted someone to tell him that he was doing something right. It was a part of him that he had spent years trying to ignore. _

_ Over the next few weeks, Techno learned a lot more than either of them expected. Phil considered himself to be a decent teacher, but there was no way he could attribute this rapid growth to anything Phil had done. No, Techno was almost entirely responsible for it. He had gone from only knowing a select few words (a large portion of which greatly concerned Phil) to being able to hold a conversation in just a few weeks. _

_ There were a lot of words he struggled with, however. Some of them just didn't seem to feel natural to him. He knew the words, knew what they meant and how they sounded, but when it came time to use them himself, the pronunciations just wouldn't come out right. _

_ There were a lot of times when Phil would end up trying to convince him that it was alright, that he was still learning, that it was okay if he didn't get it immediately. But Techno refused to listen to that, and wouldn't stop trying until he finally got close enough to satisfy himself. _

_ A few months went by. Techno was speaking decently well now, and he had begun to learn how to read and write. Reading seemed to be much easier for him than writing. He memorized what the alphabet looked like almost confusingly quickly, but he couldn't seem to replicate them with pencil and paper. _

_ "See, there's your problem. You can't hold a pencil like that." _

_ "But it feels better that way. Your way feels wrong." _

_ " My way  is the only way you can write these letters, Mr. Blade. Trust me, Tommy used to do the same thing, and that kid couldn't write for shit until Wil finally told him, if he kept holding it like that, he'd break the pencil. He was terrified of breaking the thing, and I still have no clue why. My  point  is, you have to hold it this way..." _

_ - _

_ Techno stared at the page, trying to make sense of what he was reading. _

_ "Phil?" _

_ "Yeah?" _

_ "How do you say that?" He pointed at a word in his book as Phil walked over to where he was sitting. _

_ "Ah.  Theseus.  That's it." _

_ Theseus? _

_ - _

_" ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ||𝙹⚍ ∷ᒷᔑ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᒲᒷ? f∷𝙹ᒲ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ʖ𝙹𝙹ꖌ."_

_"r ᒷᔑ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ ? w⍑ᔑℸ ̣ , ╎ᓭ ᒲ|| ⍊ᒷ∷ᓭ╎𝙹リ リ𝙹ℸ ̣⊣𝙹𝙹↸ ᒷリ𝙹⚍⊣⍑? aリ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ 'ᓭ ╎リ eリ⊣ꖎ╎ᓭ⍑. Y𝙹⚍ ∴𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ᒷ⍊ᒷリ..."_

_"p ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ? i ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ∴ᔑ|| ╎ℸ ̣ᓭ𝙹⚍リ↸ᓭ."_

_Minx sighed and opened the book. "lᒷℸ ̣ 'ᓭ ʖᒷ ⍑𝙹リᒷᓭℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, i ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ᒷ⍊ᒷリ ∷ᒷᔑ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓭ⍑╎ℸ ̣ᔑリ||∴ᔑ||. I ᓭ∴ᒷᔑ∷, ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ|| ᒲᔑꖌᒷ ⍑ᔑꖎ⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᓭᒷ ∴𝙹∷↸ᓭ ⚍!¡."_

_ Techno smiled slightly as she grumbled over the book. _

_"The... fuckin hell. Thee-see... uh. Thee-see-us?" Minx sighed dramatically and looked back at him. "t⍑╎ᓭ ╎ᓭリ'ℸ̣⊣𝙹リリᔑ ⍑ᔑ!¡!¡ᒷリ. Cᔑリ i !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ℸ ̣ ᒷꖎꖎ ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹∷|| ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ?"_

_"y 𝙹⚍ ∷ᒷᔑꖎꖎ|| ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣∷ᒷᔑ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ ? i ℸ ̣ ⍑𝙹⚍⊣⍑ℸ ̣||𝙹⚍ ∴ᒷ∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹𝙹↸."_

_"w ⍑ᔑℸ ̣ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⎓⚍ᓵꖌ ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣ᓭ⚍!¡!¡𝙹ᓭᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ 𝙹_

_ᒲᒷᔑ リ? i ᔑᒲ ⊣𝙹𝙹↸, i'ᒲ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ʖᒷᓭℸ ̣ᔑℸ ̣∷ᒷᔑ↸╎リ⊣. B⚍ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓭ⍑╎ℸ ̣╎ᓭ ⎓⚍ᓵꖌ╎リ⊣⍑ᔑ∷↸!"_

_ Techno shook his head, smiling. _

_"t ᒷꖎꖎ ||𝙹⚍ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣. I'ꖎꖎ ⊣╎⍊ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ᒲ|| ⍊ᒷ∷ᓭ╎𝙹リ, ╎リ eリ⊣ꖎ╎ᓭ⍑. Dᒷᔑꖎ?"_

_ "o ꖌ ᔑ ||." _

_ "So this kid lived in a town called-" _

_ - _

_ "- Crete. He lived in Crete." _

_ "Yeah. Yeah, he- he did. Did you even...? How did you...?" _

_ Techno blinked as though he was trying to clear the memory from his mind. "Remembered it. From a long time ago. It's not important now." _

_ "Oh. Alright." Phil's voice was filled with thinly veiled confusion. Techno couldn't really find it in himself to mind. _

_ He tried to focus back on the page, but he couldn't focus. Techno could still hear Minx reading to him like it was just yesterday. It made him feel... something. Not sad, not really, and not really scared either. Just... bad. _

_ Techno missed her. Sure, she was obnoxious at times, but she'd saved his life countless times. She was the only one who cared about him back in Hypixel. _

_ But now, he hoped to god he never saw her again. The last thing he wanted was to go back, and he was certain that she would never get out of there alive. Especially not if she was the one responsible for getting him out. _

_ He didn't want to think about that. _

_ Techno looked up from the book and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late, and he was exhausted. _

_ He waved goodnight to Phil and walked to his room. _

_ His  room? When had he started calling it that? Techno wasn't used to things being  his.  Even his victories weren't his own. _

_ He laid down in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleeping wasn't going to be fun tonight. He'd thought about it too much while he was awake, and now it would come back to haunt him in his dreams. _

_ Soon, his eyes drifted shut, and Techno fell asleep. _

_ - _

_ "You left me." _

_ That voice. Even after so long, he hadn't forgotten it. How could he? It was all he had to live for. _

_ "...What?" But it couldn't be. _

_ "You left me, Tec. You left me, and now I'm dead. You did all that for nothing, because you were too late." _

_ "...Laney?" No. _

_ He turned around, desperately looking for the source of the voice. Nothing. _

_ "That's not my name,  Technoblade." _

_ "Where are you?" _

_ "Why would I want to see you? You're a murderer, Technoblade. You are not my brother." _

_ "No. No, no, I am, Laney, I am, please..." Panic filled him. This couldn't be happening, not like this, not now... _

_ "How many children did you kill? How many? And for what?" Her voice was laced with faraway venom. "Why did you kill them? To save yourself." _

_ "No. No, that's not- that's not what happened, it's not-" He could hardly breathe now, the panic constricting his lungs.  _

_ "It is. You know it is. What happened to the brother I knew?" _

_Techno closed his eyes, trying madly to collect himself. He could hear Phil, telling him to breathe..._

_ When he opened his eyes, his little sister stood in front of him. _

_ Her skin was pale gray, and her clothes were covered in blood. The blood matted in her hair and covered her face. Her neck turned at an unnatural angle as she stared at him with empty, dead eyes.  _

_ A scream tore at his throat, but no sound came out. _

_ "You did this, Technoblade. And you did it to all of them too. This is your fault." _

_ no no no no no- _

"No!" The scream was ripped from his throat as he shot up in bed, his heart pounding. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think-

And then Phil was there, sitting at the end of his bed. "Hey, mate, breathe. It's okay. Just breathe."

But he couldn't, he _couldn't_ breathe-

Phil took his hands in his and held them tightly. "Look at me. Breathe. It's okay, it was just a bad dream. It's alright."

Techno shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears that he could barely hide. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and his heart calmed.

Phil gently let go of his hands. "That seemed like a bad one. You alright?"

He nodded slightly. "Sorry," Techno said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Phil could not be more wrong about that.

But maybe he could fix it.

Slowly, the idea sunk into Techno's mind. Phil left after he insisted he was alright, and Techno began planning, his hands still shaking.

He failed his sister once, and he wouldn't do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess whos back bitches!!!
> 
> also shoutout to past me who said "lmao chapter out tomorrow" and disappeared for a month
> 
> but fr now, i should be posting more regularly now.
> 
> i also have some other fic ideas, so i hope to see you at those.
> 
> see ya!


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